Giver
by trufflemores
Summary: Twenty years from now, The Black Flash comes for Eobard, who turns to Barry to save him.


_I'm begging you_.

Barry's expression stays flat as he stands across from his adversary. _You know I can't stop that thing._

Kneeling on the pavement, Eobard's face contorts in a pained snarl. _No, you can't. But the Speed Force can. Tell it to call off its – servant._

Calling it a 'dog' seems beyond Eobard. Barry gives him that much credit. _If it wants you, then there is nothing I can do to stop it._

 _Please._ Eobard drags his knees forward, like he's afraid to stand. Huddled against the concrete, he just might be. Barry can feel the deadly aura clinging to him. _Flash. You know what will happen if it catches me._

 _It'll devour you._

Eobard shudders. _I was never that cruel to you. I was quick. I was clean. One strike, and you fell. I didn't – Flash. This is inhuman._

Barry walks closer and kneels in front of him, putting them almost at eye level. _That's the thing. We're not human. Make a better argument._

 _You're supposed to be a hero!_

 _A lot of people would say taking you out of play is heroic._

 _You don't torture. You can't let this happen. You're supposed to save people._

 _I save people who deserve to be saved._

Eobard shudders. _Please._ There's desperation in his voice, a man being led to his gallows. _I don't want to die like this._

Barry rocks back on his heels. There's a horrible feeling in his gut. _Eobard._ His sigh is pained. _I can't stop it. You know that. The Speed Force – The Flash – this thing, they're the same. I can feel it. If I try, it'll kill me, too._

There's a tremor under Eobard's shoulder that doesn't relent. _Please._

This isn't heroism, Barry thinks, an ache in his chest. This isn't what he's supposed to do. He doesn't condemn a human to die when he can stop it.

I-can't-stop-it.

But-what-if-we-could?

He can almost feel the Speed Force revolt, grabbing him by the back of the neck in warning. How-much-do-you-value-your-own-life-Flash?

Eobard sobs. Barry grabs him by the back of the shoulder. He takes a deep breath. Speed Force snarls somewhere in the realm of his consciousness. What-are-you-doing-Flash?

The lightning in his eyes is so intense it's midnight-blue. You-gave-me-a-gift-and-I'm-using-it.

He begins to shiver in place, to slow down the world, to speed up himself. The vibrations transfer to Eobard until they're both nearly invisible to the naked eye, a blur of red and yellow. And then the yellow begins to occlude the red, shielding it entirely, until Eobard's Speed-signature is identical to his own.

Barry snarls in pain as the ache begins to build in his lungs, his chest, his _bones_. It's hard, harder still as Flash strains _against_ him, stop-trying-to-hide-him, but he doesn't give up. You-gave-me-this-gift. He throws it in The Flash's face, wrestling the rebellious energy under _control_. It's like trying to reset his own heartbeat.

Without warning, Barry feels a terror unlike any he's ever known sink its teeth into him. He's gasping for breath, resisting the urge to bolt, to fling Eobard to his fate and _run_.

Then the Black Flash arrives, looks right at him, and _growls_.

Stand- _down._

Barry can't feel his hand reflexively tighten on Eobard's shoulder. _No_.

The Black Flash lurches forward, in his face, breath hot and poisonous. Barry holds his own, feeling an asphyxiating crush of fear as Speed Force stands _against_ him, facing him opposite instead of looking out with him.

The Black Flash turns towards Eobard. Then it looks at Barry. A clawed hand reaches out and settles on Barry's cowl.

Fire springs from the contact, a burn so intense it cuts straight to the bone. Barry's fingers twitch spasmodically on Eobard's shoulder, but he doesn't slow down or surrender, holding his ground with the same ferocious insistence that has kept him alive almost fifty years. _No._

The Black Flash lets go. It steps back.

Blackness crowds the edges of Barry's vision, but he holds his ground still.

The Black Flash takes another step back. It only looks at him. Eobard, Barry knows, is invisible to it. Or, rather, he's claimed.

One-or-none.

At last, the Black Flash vanishes.

Barry heaves a breath and collapses onto his side, gasping against the concrete. Flash doesn't even seem to be speaking to him; there is no healing lightning attending to the burn on his face. He feels Eobard's anguish and relief at his side, a deep, halting thing that finds no words.

Already, their Speed signatures split, the vibrations reverting to their respective normal, Reverse's loud and thrumming, Barry's silent and infused with something alive. But the Black Flash doesn't come back and take what it came for.

Eobard stands slowly. There's no need to ask. He takes a deep breath and shivers.

Slowly, Barry staggers to his feet beside him. His legs shake with it, refusing to support his weight, and he feels a firm hand grab his arm and drag it over an equally firm set of shoulders.

He lifts Barry effortlessly, and between one blink and the next the night disappears and the familiar chrome of STAR Labs appears. Cisco falls out of his chair, and Caitlin is on her feet before they've even slowed down.

Eobard holds onto him for a moment, and Barry can't define the nameless protectiveness and need for it that passes between them. _We protect each other._

Then the Reverse Flash vanishes, and Barry's knees hit the floor.

Caitlin and Cisco rush forward.

"What happened?" Cisco asks, hand on his arm.

"Barry," Caitlin grieves, already reaching for the wound on his face.

Barry works his jaw for a second. Then he manages in a deep, exhausted tone, "I saved his life."

"Why?" Cisco asks.

"Because he didn't deserve it," Barry replies.

 _I save people who deserve to be saved._

 _And those who don't._

"Because I couldn't stop it," he finishes.

 _And I did anyway._


End file.
